[ of course that isn't what he meant. he's torth -- tall, blond, upstanding and righteous, with enough justice filling his soul to power several orphanages and still have enough left to go around smiting wrongdoers in the eleventh hour. petty, and guilty of it. if eseld cared a little more, he'd be the first to point out that that particular combination only wreaks suffering upon torth himself.

but unlike fable, who cares just enough for torth to have all kinds of unrealistic optimism over -- something that fuels eseld's daily amusement, much to his delight -- he knows he himself is fundamentally lacking in that manner. a birth defect, if you would, one that doesn't so much keep him up at night so much as it causes a deep an inexhaustible bitterness to seep in, knowing that juno wouldn't have been so flawed.

but that's why he's still living. and if torth noticing his pale discomfort is going to help him live, as annoying as it is, then he will simply have to swallow it, even despite knowing that juno likely wouldn't have been so weak. ]

A bit of advice, love. Only say what you mean, and mean what you say. And never look straight enough to reveal what that oversized organ you call heart is beating for.

[ perhaps a little more kindly: ]

Worried?